


an existence like water

by mikki_strange



Category: Big Bang (Band), YG Entertainment | YG Family
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, GRi - Freeform, M/M, Nyongtory, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, inspired by the LINE phone call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:04:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5479232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikki_strange/pseuds/mikki_strange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What is Jiyong to Seungri?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	an existence like water

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not Beta read but I do pride myself in not being an idiot so, hopefully, there aren't many mistakes. Feel free to comment if you find one that should be corrected. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't think it's possible to own human beings? Either way I don't own Bigbang (T^T) and I'm not making any money off this piece of fan fiction. 
> 
> Now, on to the fluff!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

——————

 

_“What is Jiyong to Seungri?”_

 

It’s a complicated question, one with too many answers and too many emotions wrapped up in it. There are a hundred and one ways Seungri could respond - a friend, family, a bandmate, a leader - but they aren't right. They just don't fit. Jiyong is…

 

Jiyong is made of lighting. He’s explosive, beautiful, crackling with energy that can be felt by any and all around him. He’s breathtaking when he performs, playing the crowd just so and drawing out screams from even the shyest of fans, and even more so after the concert is finished; when he’s wandering around backstage with a brilliant smile and murmuring almost-profound words about how he’s yellow with happiness, how the cheers of his fans have stained him the colours of the rainbow, how he feels like he’d going to buzz right out of his skin with the excitement rushing through his veins.

 

Jiyong is also soft, gooey like the chocolate in a freshly baked cookie. He curls into Seungri after the energy wears off, when exhaustion pervades his limbs making him droopy and pliant, and trusts him so completely to get his numb body home safely. It makes something pleasant pool in Seungri’s stomach every time. And when they finally reach their shared apartment Jiyong will tug insistently on Seungri’s shirt until the younger gives in and climbs into bed with him, letting familiar arms pull him into a sleepy embrace. Jiyong is always softest in that moment, as he gazes down at the boy in his arms with hazy, drooping eyes, as the faintest of smiles teases the corners of his lips upwards and he nuzzles affectionately into Seungri’s fluffy black hair.

 

Jiyong is waking up the next morning to an empty bed.

 

Jiyong is a reminder of years passed skirting around feelings, of panic clawing its way up Seungri’s throat when he gave those knowing little smiles after hearing the maknae declare that ‘Jiyong-hyung’ is his favourite, of nights spent curled under a fluffy duvet with handprints burned into his skin where the leader let his hands boldly wander, of the way his breath would catch when those hands would trail slowly higher and higher up his thigh (always stopping just before they reached where Seungri so desperately wished they would), of the shame that burnt through him when he followed the path those sinful fingers carved late at night with arousal sending shivers up his spine, of how he’d avoid catching the older man’s eyes the next day as memories of the night made his face burn scarlet, of how he’d convinced himself that Jiyong knew what was wrong with him, had somehow figured out the reason for Seungri’s desperate avoidance tactics, because the man began to increase how often he snuggled up to the youth and attempted to lay kisses on any available skin, he’s a sharp reminder of the day he finally found himself standing before the leader with tear-stained cheeks and pleas for the man to accept his feelings.

 

Jiyong is proud, was too proud to admit his feelings first as it so happens, but not proud enough to act unaffected by the younger’s confession. He’d slumped in on himself in utter relief, had sighed happily, and had easily tugged Seungri into a kiss that set his heart beating too fast and blanked any coherent thoughts from his mind.

 

Jiyong is both easy and almost impossible to date; being naturally affectionate smoothed out any awkward bumps most couples run in to, such as nervous first kisses, hesitance to initiate things like handholding and cuddling, and made the physical side of being in a relationship with him as easy as breathing. But the man is pretty much emotionally constipated. He’s a natural on camera, announcing eyebrow raising things about how ‘maknae is mine’, but when the filming stops and the only eyes on him are the afore-mentioned maknae’s he’s quick to hide away any of his honest emotions. He’s always been the type to take on everything by himself and it was one hell of an uphill battle to reach the point where Jiyong would share with him the thoughts he could only scrawl on paper; however, he knew it was worth the wait when Jiyong finally whispered ‘I love you’ into Seungri’s ear as they leisurely made love under fresh linen sheets with the early morning sunlight spilling gold across Jiyong’s soft features.

 

Jiyong is an incredible contradiction. He’s a whirlwind of restlessness, set in perpetual motion, looks on the verge of taking flight even in stillness. His feet tap tap tap, thumping out rhythms to songs he’s sure to forget in an hour or so; his fingers twitch and twine together when they aren't kept occupied by anything, so much so that Seungri often finds himself habitually reaching over to let the spindly fingers play with his own; he silently mouths lyrics that pop into his mind at any hour of the day over and over until he can scribble them on a piece of paper (the pockets of his clothes are always teeming with random scraps of paper: sticky notes, receipts, corners torn from magazines, tissues, really anything he can get his hands on, and all with the same spindly scrawl hastily scribbled across them). But, he has his quiet moments. When he wakes in the morning, still sluggish with sleep, he won’t say more than a mumbled ‘good morning’ until he’s finished at least two cups of coffee; when his nerves are shot and hands shaking, he’ll disappear onto the balcony with a cigarette and let himself get lost in a cloud of smoke as he gazes out at the stars fighting to be seen past the hazy city lights; when it’s 4am and he’s finally, finally, finished writing that one song that’s been circling his mind for weeks, and he crawls into bed, limbs heavy and eyes set above impossibly dark circles, whispering apologies for waking Seungri; when they lay together, panting and sweaty, naked bodies entwined seamlessly and he murmurs sweet words, I love you’s spoken so reverently that Seungri can do nothing to stop the breathlessness of his lungs or the pink flush of his cheeks because no matter how long they’ve been together and how many times he’s heard those words Jiyong will never fail to make his heart stutter in his chest.

 

_“Jiyong is… Jiyong is like water when I’m thirsty.”_

 

_“Water? An existence like water?”_

 

_“Yes, but I have to be thirsty first.”_

 

_“Ah… So my existence is essential?”_

 

_“Of course.”_

 

——————

**Author's Note:**

> The quotes in italics at the start and end of this fic are actual things Seungri said to GD during a LINE phone call thingy (idk man but it was super freaking cute). I don't have the link unfortunately but if you look up 'What is Jiyong to Seungri phone call' you're bound to find it (and, yes, there are links with english subs dw).


End file.
